


Baby, Calm Me Down, You're The Only One Who Knows How

by WeNeedSp4ce



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Canon Compliant, Comfort No Hurt, M/M, not really anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-09-26 16:58:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9912365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeNeedSp4ce/pseuds/WeNeedSp4ce
Summary: Now that he has Victor, Yuuri doesn't have to be alone anymore, but that's not always easy to get used to.





	

            It felt like drowning in fog, he’d explain when people asked him about it. Or at least he would if people _knew_ , but he spent so much time hiding his anxiety that barely anyone knew. Telling his family, or the _public_ , god, would just be another cause for panic attacks, another thing to throw him back in the horrible fog. Not that he ever really “left”. The fog rarely went _away_ , just got thinner, less of a distraction.

            The worst of it was like a bottomless pit, like a nightmare where he would run forever only to find he hadn’t moved a centimeter. It would come on suddenly, when he didn’t keep a close watch on it, and within seconds it was all he could see, hear, or _feel_ \- just a formless haze that rendered him helpless and lost. Nothing made sense once he was there, there was no reasoning his way out, he’d just metaphorically lie down and clutch his knees, waiting for it to pass.        

            When he _did_ keep a close watch on it, it was hardly better, more akin to a raging current, a wind howling down an unfamiliar path with no shelter in sight. It was possible to fight through it, but usually the effort was Herculean. It was a constant repetition of _I’m okay, it’s not real, I’ll be fine, it won’t get to me_.

Each attack, he would repeat the phrases in a million variations, like he’d done a million times, gasping out breaths as he willed himself to believe them _please just this_ once _believe them_ before he found himself under the fog again.

            Fleeing was always the most degrading - almost as degrading as having someone _see_ him during a breakdown, but there was no way anyone could see him so low. Being alone was the only way he would be safe, even if “safe” looked more like crouching on the ground, burying his head as he tried futilely to stop tears from raining down.

            But it was no use. He’d lost the battle, like he _always_ lost the battle, and that meant it was going to get _bad_. He shook, willing it to stay inside, just once, _just this once_ , but it did nothing. The fog was already getting thick, his thoughts were already going too fast, _breathing_ felt like a memory as it forced its way out in choked bursts.

            Or at least, that was how it used to be.

            Now Victor was there, and now Victor understood. Without a word, he'd know, sometimes Yuuri didn't even have to look at him. The fog still raged, just as hard and just as unfeeling, but it was easier to remember it wasn't real. It started off the same, with forests and fog and him rushing off alone if he was anywhere around people.

            It hadn't always been so easy of course, in the beginning. Victor was so much more than _people_ , he was Yuuri’s world, and having _him_ , someone who meant so much, seeing Yuuri at his weakest was more than he could handle. He hadn't told Victor by choice, of course, but there was only so long before his discovery of Yuuri’s… condition was inevitable, and at first, it was awkward, forced shows of sympathy and pats on the shoulder that just made everything so much worse. Victor was never good with feelings, and he _tried_ , to his benefit, he always _tried_ , but it wasn’t enough. Especially since Yuuri didn’t know what _was_ enough. He couldn’t explain something he never thought he needed.

            He’d been patient though. As much as he hated to admit it, it really was better to not be alone, even if it was clear Victor had no idea what he was doing. Gradually, it became less about him feeling like a hero and more about Yuuri being helped. He’d stayed by his side, figuring out what made his body relax (cuddling and hot tea), and what just made his heart pound faster (trying to reason with him).

            If words could work, he would spend every second of that time saying it, swearing he wouldn’t go, promising that he never wanted to go, but words were so easily doubted, so he’d learned to do it in gestures. Yet he never touched him outright; Yuuri had always hated how diminutive and patronizing it felt, no matter who it was coming from, because some part of him was still determined to pretend he could handle things alone. Instead, Victor would stand quietly by his side with his arms open. "If you need me," he'd said once, and god, Yuuri did. Being the one to reach out meant _he_ was in control, that he wasn't a child to be taken care of. Once he did, he could let go. He could fall apart entirely, not worrying about how he _looked_ or _came off_. He could never go so far that Victor wouldn’t pull him back.

            And it wasn’t that Victor _saved_ him, or _cured_ him - they both knew that. Tight hugs and blankets and headphones for when everything just got too _loud_ didn’t stop his nerves. But he could _breathe_ again when his head lay against Victor’s chest. It was easier to fight the drowning when there were arms holding him up.

            So he would s _tay_ , however long as Yuuri needed him. He would stay until it was over, and Yuuri had finally convinced himself he *wouldn't* leave. He would stay long after it ended, dutiful and patient, until “Don’t ever leave my side,” faded to “I trust you enough to come back” and Yuuri could bear to be alone for longer than a few seconds again. Though usually, he stayed past all of that, there was rarely a reason _not_ to. Even if Yuuri was worn out and unwell, there was still nowhere else Victor would rather be than at his side, and Yuuri wholeheartedly agreed.           

            He was still tired afterwards, nothing or no one could stop that. Panic attacks were draining experience physically, in addition to the toll they obviously took on his emotions, but he’d stopped feeling weak afterwards. It wasn’t shameful or humiliating, just another thing to deal with, and it was a lot easier to remember that when Victor would smile at him and ask if he was ready to go back to the world.

            Sometimes he actually felt brave afterwards, when Victor was able to breakthrough all the formidable doubts. “It’s all over now,” he’d remind him, “You made it out.” After particularly bad sessions, it didn’t feel like it at all; getting through it wasn’t so much of a choice as an inevitability forced upon him, but when he _could_ allow himself to feel okay, to believe the words, it was a wave of peace that almost made him forget everything else. He would nod and lace his hand with Victor’s, and they’d head back to wherever it was that was missing them.

            He was whole.


End file.
